nfb: ok. here's some stark reality for you

[wolfdogs]

many of yall know know, but my wife works for GRREAT. Golden Retreiver Rescue Education and Training. yes.....i know... wolfdogs and goldens.....LOL..anyway...here's a story of what just happend a few weeks ago..... this cr#p goes on folks......and its aweful......

**************************


Jim spent $16,000.00 getting these animals out and to his Lous. home.

in fact, mary and i are doing a leg of a transport for 4 of them this sunday......they are going to Deleware to thier new home....

ok...... its long.... but worth it.

__________________________________________________ ___

For you guys who have not been to a Puppy Mill, I think Janetta has captured
the spirit of what it was like. I still can not believe that we pulled it
off. So pull out your handkerchief and get ready to as you see the
emotion
of a young lady who loves dogs come poring out of the words on screen in
front
of you. Every time I read it it brings back that horrible yet wonderful day.
For all you who were involved in the rescue and have received dogs from the
rescue the three of us thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Jim Butts

Permission to Cross Post Granted


The Great Escape of 2004
Written by Janetta Chrysler

Friday, October 9, 2004, its pouring rain, Francine, Jim, and I headed off
to
a small town in Arkansas on a mission to a rescue at least 30 Golden
Retrievers and whatever else we could afford at a puppy mill auction. What
we did not
know was how it would forever change our lives and the lives of some 80
dogs.

During the 11 hour drive, we planned our bidding strategy, made jokes, got
flea preventative divided up and ready in zip lock baggies along with
Capstar to
kill the live ones. We got collars ready with pretty pink and yellow ribbon
holding on a tag on which to write the dogs auction number. It was a fun
trip
with lots of laughter.

We arrived in Ft. Smith, AR around 8pm and checked into a local Motel 6. We
found a Waffle House to get food before returning to the motel for some much
needed sleep. It was still raining.

At 6am, Jim called the room for our wake up call. Francine and I showered
and got ready for the big event. We had a good laugh at each other wearing
our “
miller clothes” that we purchased at Goodwill a few days before the trip.
The three of us walked in the rain over to McDonalds for breakfast. There
was a
couple and their teenage son ordering food as we walked in and we joked
about
them going to the auction.

Two hours later, after eating and checking out of the motel, we found North
River Road and I felt as if someone had just punched me in the stomach as we
pulled onto the grounds of the puppy mill. We sat in the vehicle for a few
minutes to catch our breath and watched the millers unload their dogs that
they
had brought for consignment. I do not think any of us were prepared for
what we
would encounter on that Saturday, the 10th of October.

Earlier we had decided that Francine and I would stay together while Jim
went
on his own. As soon as we walked through the farm gates, there were two
6-week-old mixed breed black and white puppies in a hamster cage in the bed
of an
open pick up truck. It was chilly, windy and raining. These puppies were
shivering with a sign on the truck that said, “FREE, take if you want.”
You bet
we took them! Two puppies were saved from being bred just for their milk
and
their future newborn puppies saved from being drowned because they were not
wanted. Francine and I put the puppies in a warm crate with a towel in the
bottom. Jim laughed at us, and called us those “damn rescue
do-gooders!”

As I was walking around the mill looking at all the eyes pleading for
release, I tried not to look horrified, but rather as if I was used to
seeing dead
eyes and lost souls everyday. I tried my best not to stick my fingers in
any of
the cages for I did not want people to think I actually cared about these
pathetic looking creatures.

There were old trailers and portable buildings all over the grounds with
cries and barking coming from them all. Francine and I got brave and
started
walking in them one by one. The stench, the flies, nothing in my life had
prepared me for this. I have been in poorly run, falling down shelters and
filthy
kennels. Nothing compared. The smell of stale urine and fresh feces burned
my
nose and made me gag as I walked in the tiny buildings. Wire cages were
stacked 3 high on both walls and crammed full of tiny puppies. They were
literally
dying for attention and since we were alone in the dimly lit building, my
fingers went inside the rusted wire cages, if only for a second, they were
given
human attention. I wanted so badly to open the cages, love on all of them
and
set them free from the hell they were in. About an hour later, all the
portable buildings now had signs posted that read “Do Not Enter.” These
puppies

[wolfdogs]

(so long i have to make it in three parts, sorry)

were never auctioned off.

All the dogs up for auction had tight cheap metal chains around their necks
from which hung flexible plastic cattle tag lot numbers. I guess they ran
out
of cheap chain because the rest of the dogs got wire wrapped around their
necks and the cattle tags hung from that.

We found some of the Golden Retrievers and while there were some that were
just as terrified as we were, for the most part, they were friendly and
outgoing. I bent down to read a tag number on a beautiful female and I
whispered to
her, “You are getting out of here, I promise, you are getting out.”

The registration trailer was finally set up so we headed over to register
and
get our numbers, 60 and 64. Numbers Bob and Chad, the auctioneers, had
memorized with our faces by the end of the day. We walked around a bit
more, then
headed over to the tent and waited for the auction to begin. As we sat on
the
cold hard bleachers, I turned around to see who was behind us and possibly
eavesdropping, it was no other than the couple and their teenage son from
McDonalds!

The auctioneer was getting started. He introduced himself as Bob and his
teenage son as Chad. The rest of the family was also introduced. Bob went
over
the auction rules including the no camera rule. If anyone was caught with a
camera, it would be confiscated and the person would be escorted off the
premises to a squad car and charged with trespassing, a felony.

Selling of equipment was starting. A miller’s equipment consisted of
surgical scissors for doing ones own stitching and galvanized box kennel
feeders
along with metal cage cardholders.

The Chihuahuas were the first dogs up. As the high school aged kids brought
up the dogs three at a time, I felt a lump in my throat and I had to remind
myself to breathe, it was starting, the selling of dogs for breeding had
begun.
The first three chi’s were females and Bob stated they may have been bred,
meaning they were already pregnant and checked out fine. The bidding began
at
$300, with no bids Bob went down to $50. It was fast and furious with
millers
bidding left and right, SOLD for $120 and the winning bidder picked which
dog
out of the three he wanted. It started all over again for the remaining two
dogs. The winning bid was $250 and the lady said she wanted them both. In
came the next three and Bob stated that she was a 98 model and had been
bred.
Her poor belly was so swollen and she looked miserable. Her body was sold
for
$475. The last of the Chi’s came out. On the table was an adorable
5-year-old
male named Slick Willie’s Snowball that looked just like Francine’s Chi
Chi
that she had just lost to old age and two other males. Once again the
bidding
began and at $35, I raised my number, but by the time the auction helper got
to me, it had gone up to $75! Before I knew it, I heard, “sold to number
60!”
“Ma’am, which one do you want?” I looked at Francine and together
we
said, “The blonde.” The auctioneer chuckled and told the assistant that
we
wanted the blonde, the third one.

We curiously watched in disgust as people were bidding on these defenseless,
frightened creatures like there was nothing to it. All 13 of the female
Cocker Spaniels were sold for anywhere from $85 to $360 each. The male
cocker
puppies were next. Four puppies were brought in, all 04 models as they were
called. Three of the puppies were said to have checked okay but the black
and
white one named Spots Whopper Daddy had double cherry eye. Bob announced
that he
could still get it on; he didn’t need his sight for breeding! After that
comment, I was determined to get him. Bidding started out high, but due to
these
males being young pups, they have not been “proven” to breed yet. The
starting bid kept going lower and lower. I wanted this precious boy and I
saved him
for $25! There were now two males left another young pup and a 3 year old.
Bob told the crowd that the 01 model had an UN-descended testicle, but the
one he did have was big, and boy could it swing! The mob of greed was quiet
and
the opening bid got down to $10, I raised my card and heard “SOLD to
#60.”
When asked which one I wanted, Francine and I looked at each other and
without
hesitating we took them both for $10 each. Disgusting and a true insult to
the breed, but now they too are safe.

Bob announced that the large dogs would be auctioned off in their kennels.
We headed out of the tent and walked in the rain and mud to where the Golden
Retrievers, Golden Doodles, Bernese Mountain Dogs, Australian Shepard’s
and
Akitas were. The Goldens were up. Jim was looking nervous, yet he was
confident
and looked like a professional. I made my way through the crowd to Francine
who was in charge of keeping track of how much Jim had spent. The smell of
feces made me gag and I had to turn around and quickly walk out. I caught
my

[wolfdogs]

breath and told myself to suck it up as we were doing this to save lives. I
braved the flies and the stench once more. The bidding war had begun
between Jim
and a friend of the auctioneer named Dell. The first kennel had five dogs
in
it. Dell gave up at $200 and Jim took the entire run. Kennel number two
was
packed with Goldens. Once again, Jim won the bid and took the whole run.
This
went on, kennel after kennel after kennel! Dell was now getting quite angry
and the crowd was all eyes on Jim, the man buying ALL the Golden Retrievers.
All I remember hearing was “SOLD, number 64 buys the lot!” Bob did not
have
to ask Jim how many he wanted from each kennel, he knew he was determined to
get them all. Jim had saved that entire kennel area of Goldens. He called
his
wife to tell her the good news. Francine and I saw the Golden Doodles were
being auctioned off so we quickly went back in the kennel. We had missed
the
females but we shouted and stopped Chad, who had taken over for his father.
Francine asked what the bid was and we were told one male had sold for $15.
Chad asked if we were interested, hell yes we were. “SOLD!” The last
three
were saved!

We found Jim still talking to his wife away from the crowds and told him
about the Doodles. The hoards of men, women and children moved up the hill
to a
few more Goldens, Saint Bernard’s, and Burmese Mountain Dog puppies. The
adult female-bred Berners bids were no higher than $200 and the miller said
she
would not let them go for that. I’m so sorry girls that you were left in
that
filth to have your precious babies. Saint Bernard rescue was able to get
all
three of the Saint puppies. Once again the Bernese Mountain Dogs were not
getting much attention and the bidding went down to $10. They were not in
great
shape and looked to have hip dysplasia already at 8 months of age. I got in
on the bidding and it stopped at $25. “SOLD to #60.” Each bidder was
allowed to pick a dog. Jim got the rest of the Goldens in that area.

I was starting to feel that the pores in my body had soaked up the entire
stench from around me. I was surrounded by human greed. I was surrounded
by
cruelty. I had to take a walk away from it all. I needed to clear my head,
I
needed to be strong.

Jim was on a roll at the upper kennels that contained the Golden Retrievers
for consignment. I stood back and watched Dell roll his eyes and throw up
his
arms as he lost kennel after kennel to Jim. I heard some women talking
about
the man in the blue jacket at the end of the run. I casually looked down
that
way and they were speaking of Jim. His cover was blown and they along with
everyone else had figured it out. These dogs were never going to be bred
again. They were getting out of this filthy greed. They will never have to
lie in
their own urine and feces. They will be kept warm in the winter and cool
during the summer months. They will never live in a kennel again. They are
free, they have escaped this horrible thing the millers call a living.

A few Goldens were left and the millers were driving the prices up to try
and
outbid “that rescue man.” Bob asked Dell if he was ready and paying
attention. Dell had already given up and realized he was not going to get
the twenty
females he had come to the auction for. Next it was off to the building
with
mammas and their puppies. Once again Dell and the other millers there, to
raise the bidding, lost to Jim. In that building, he saved two nursing moms
with two puppies each. The rest of the litter to one mom had been hosed
down the
drain and the others pups had been eaten by the other dogs in the kennel
with
her. One more Golden was left. She looked worried about where her puppies
were to be born. She was miserable in her wire-bottomed cage. She too is
now
safe. You lose Dell, the Goldens have won this auction!

Hours and hours had now passed and we are all getting tired and wondering
how
we were going to get all the dogs home. Jim went to the trailer and got his
final total of dogs and money owed. On his phone, he told his wife the
wonderful news. Jim went back to our vehicle to figure out a plan on
transporting
about fifty more dogs than we had planned. Francine and I went back to the
auction tent to watch the disgust of bidding wars on the small dogs.

Bulldog number 99 was up. He checked out fine for an ‘02 model and had
even
been semen tested. The beautiful boy was bought for $450. Next came the
Bacon Frise’s. All five of them were 04 models and unproven males. We
were
shockingly surprised when no one was biting at the opening bid of $1,000.
Why
would anyone want to put up that much money in an unproven male? Who cares
how
adorable they are. That was not the game we were playing that day. Two
Bichons were sold to us for a measly $30 each.

The insanity went on for hours. In those cold wet hours, we were able to
save an Italian Greyhound and a Rat Terrier, both looked scared to death. A
male
Schipperke was also freed from his hell. I am not a big fan of Schipperkes
and apparently millers are not either. It was Larry’s Man Smokey’s turn
on
the chopping block. Bidding started at $25, no bidders, down to $20, still
no

[ryan34]

Sorry wolfman but its spelled DelAware. I know it has nothing to do with the post but i gotta defend my tiny home.

[wolfdogs]

Sorry wolfman but its spelled DelAware. I know it has nothing to do with the post but i gotta defend my tiny home.

i thought it was so small it didnt matter how you spell it...........